


something under her skin

by mindelan



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fix-It, Hurt/Comfort, Mission Fic, Smut, cassian is hiding something but it's ok in the end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-18 13:55:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13683051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mindelan/pseuds/mindelan
Summary: Considering that their relationship is mainly built on trust, it's very rare for one of them to hide something from the other.This is one of those times.





	something under her skin

**Author's Note:**

  * For [firefeufuego](https://archiveofourown.org/users/firefeufuego/gifts).



> hi, happy valentine's day!! your prompt was "getting back together after a breakup," but on your tumblr I remember you saying a miscommunication issue would also be chill so i went with that bc i can't ever imagine my children breaking up with each other. 
> 
> hope you enjoy!! i had a great time sending you asks!
> 
> title taken from the instrumental piece "something under her skin" by max richter

“You’re hiding something from me.”

Cassian looks up from the datapad in his hands, frowning. There’s a crease in between his eyebrows that she desperately wants to smooth away, but doesn’t dare move from her position leaning up against the doorway. He pauses, tongue darting out to lick his lips before saying, “I’m not.”

“That’s bantha fodder, and you know it.”

“Jyn,” he grits out, dropping the datapad into his lap so he can raise a hand to his temple to rub out the tension there. The tension that _she_ put there. “Please, listen to me. I’m sorry I haven’t been as. . .” he searches for a word, can’t find it, then says instead, “as––present as I usually am, but this is an important mission. We need to focus on it, okay?”

It’s not like she isn’t trying to focus. But he’s been on edge for days now, and that’s making her anxious.

She shakes her head, crossing her arms over her chest. “It’s not about that,” she says. “This is important; I get it. But you’ve been sitting in the cockpit for hours now, pouring over that damn datapad. At least take a break and grab something to eat.”

“Jyn, I can’t.”

“Yes, you can!” she snaps. “I don’t understand what’s going on with you. I realize it’s an important mission, but there’s really not much to it. Get in, place the bombs, get out.” It hadn’t taken her very long to read the mission briefing.

He’s silent, which only makes her narrow her eyes. She’s not angry, just worried. “What aren’t you telling me?”

Cassian levels her with an even look. His spy face is on, the blank one that he knows she hates and tries not to use in her presence. She can’t read him when he looks like that, which only makes her more concerned. What wasn’t he telling her? “Nothing.”

“Then you won’t mind if I reread over the briefing then, yeah?”

As soon as she stalks across the cockpit to where he’s sitting, he snatches the datapad off of his lap and flicks it off, setting it out of her reach. When she makes a move to grab for it, he holds her back with an outstretched arm. There’s panic in his eyes, an expression she’s not used to seeing in “Don’t, Jyn.”

Those words still her, and she looks down at him with a clenched jaw. That move hurt her, and by the look in his eyes, he knows. “What aren’t you telling me, Cass?”

He looks away, purposely not meeting her eyes. Her hands fall to her sides and she takes a step back. “I thought we were partners,” she says softly, training her gaze on the floor. “We’re supposed to trust each other.”

There’s a hidden implication in her words. If he’s hiding something as small as their true purpose in going to Corellia, then what else is he keeping from her? She trusts him, there’s no doubt in her mind, but she wonders if he feels the same way. Moments like these have her heart dropping and stomach clenching in doubt.

_(is he going to leave her? is he distancing himself so she won’t feel as bad when it inevitably happens?)_

“Jyn,” he sighed, running a hand through his hair. That only makes it messier, but she’s always liked it better than way anyway. “Of course I trust you. You know that I do.”

It’s a conversation that they’ve had so many times before, and she wants to believe him this time, she really does, but there’s something holding her back. She wishes that he would come to her, hold her close and assuage any of her fears, but he doesn’t. All he does is sit in that damn chair, looking at her with sad eyes, like he wishes that he could but thinks that he can’t.

 _“You can,”_ she wants to yell at him, but keeps her mouth shut. What is holding him back? And what is holding her back from going to him?

It’s silent for a moment, both of them staring at each other and waiting to speak, before Jyn turns away. “I get it,” she mutters, willing the tears in her eyes not to fall. Their entire relationship is built on trust; she trusts that he won’t leave and he trusts that she won’t run. Little secrets like this will only lead to bigger and bigger problems down the line. If he can’t tell her something as small as a mission detail, she can only wonder at what else he’s keeping hidden. “It’s confidential.”

She just a sergeant. He’s the high-ranking intelligence agent who’s been in the Alliance for years. What’s one compared to the other?

_(nothing. she’s nothing.)_

“Don’t, Jyn.” He replies, and she doesn’t have to turn around to know that there’s a pleading look in his eyes. She can hear it in the desperation in his voice; it catches at the end of his sentence. “Don’t do this.”

“Just tell me,” she whispers, hand reaching out to grip the doorframe as if it was the only thing keeping her on her feet. Her head stays ramrod straight, looking forward. “Please don’t cut me out like this, Cass.”

She hopes that he’ll just tell her. Whatever it is, whatever is bothering him, they can get through it. They’re stronger _together_ , and he knows it, even if he can’t get it through his thick skull right now.

But he doesn’t tell her. Instead, he says, “I’m sorry, Jyn.” If she hadn’t known him better, she would have missed the crack in his voice, and it plays over and over in her mind, slowly breaking her heart. “I can’t. Not this time. I. . .”

He pauses, and she thinks he’s going to say something, but there’s only silence. She can’t even hear the thrumming of the ship over the rapid beating of her heart, thrumming in her ears so loud she can’t focus.

The Rebellion comes first. It always comes first for him.

“I’m sorry too,” she says, dropping her hand from the door. As she leaves the room, she doesn’t look back, no matter how much she wants to.

 

That night, Cassian doesn’t come to bed. She figures he’s still in the cockpit, likely sleeping in the pilot’s chair that they both know will make his back feel like hell in the morning, but she’s too prideful to go and get him, to urge him into bed beside her.

She knows Cassian. He probably thinks she needs space after their argument but he hadn’t bothered to ask her what she actually wants.

_(it’s to sleep curled up at his side, like she does almost every night. too bad she can’t always get what she wants.)_

 

The next time she seeks him out, it’s to zip up her dress the next morning. The material of the garment is thick and stiff, and so utterly unlike anything she’d ever wear, but it’s for the mission.

The mission where she’s posing as Cassian’s wife, despite their disagreement last night and the tension that thrums between them in the aftermath.

When she finds him, he’s standing in the bathroom adjusting his tie in the mirror. While she’s thankful he’s actually put down his datapad and left the cockpit, she also knows he’s only done because he has to. She bites her lip, watching him, but there’s a sour taste in the back of her mouth.

_(the rebellion always comes first, especially for people like him._

_her, on the other hand––)_

She scoops her hair off of her neck, careful not to mess the delicately arranged curls that had taken her two hours of frustration to put in, turning so the back of her dress is facing him. She’s positive that he’s noticed her presence, but hasn’t said anything. “Cassian?” she calls over her shoulder. “Would you mind? I can’t reach.”

“Of course, Jyn.”

She stiffens ever so slightly when she feels his fingers on her bare back; he always moves so quietly that she doesn’t ever hear him come up behind her. They’re silent as he zips up her dress, and when he’s done, his fingers linger on her skin. Her eyes flutter shut. His touch has always been comforting, even now.

When he pulls away, she turns to face him. Pauses, takes in his appearance head-on. He looks gorgeous, as always, even in an Imperial garb that she wants nothing more to rip off his body and lavish him with her tongue. Still, she tries to focus, swallowing the lump that has suddenly appeared in her throat.  “About yesterday––”

He shakes his head, cutting her off, his perfectly smooth hair barely moving from where he had slicked it back (her fingers itch to undo it and make it messy how she likes, but she doesn’t dare move). “We have a mission to complete,” he says, his tongue darting out to lick his lips. “We’ll talk about it when we’re done, all right?”

She wants to argue, but she doesn’t like starting ops on a bad note, especially not those where they have to pose as a lovesick couple. “All right,” she exhales, not liking her answer but having to deal with it anyways. “Later, then.”

Cassian reaches over, and tilts her chin up so she’s looking him in the eyes. “I promise, Jyn,” he says gravely, and she so wants to believe him, but finds herself for some reason unable to. “We’ll talk about this. Just not now, okay?”

“Okay,” she says softly, leaning into his palm until he drops his arm and leaves the room, likely going to read over his datapad for the millionth time. “Okay.”

_(it isn’t okay.)_

 

“Remind me again while I have to be the one who sets up the explosives while you get to chat up all those rich people?”

There’s silence on his end of the commlink, but she doesn’t expect him to respond, not while he’s busy with the job. Cassian’s a professional, and she is too––well, most of the time. (Not right now.) Besides, she knows exactly why she’s the one down here getting her hands dirty while he stays at the party. Earlier in the evening, she had been close to punching all of those stuffy Imperials in the face while Cassian had remained cool and collected, making excuses for her behavior. She, on the other hand, had more experience with explosives than he did, thanks to her time spent with the Partisans.

She exhales, squatting down in the dirt as she places the bombs near the doors of the vault. If everything goes smoothly (which she doubts that it will), then no one upstairs will hear the explosions and she’ll be able to sneak in and out, grabbing the intel that the Rebellion needs and make it back upstairs before too many Imps miss her absence. Cassian’s supposed to cover her while she’s down here, and she suspects that’s exactly what he’s doing right now. Always the perfect soldier, always doing what he’s supposed to in the most perfect of ways.

 _(but even as she thinks it, she knows that’s not true. he’d went rogue for_ her _; he isn’t as perfect as she makes him seem.)_

One of her finely painted and over the top nails cracks as she works, breaking off from the top. Jyn swears viciously, then sticks her dirty finger into her mouth, trying to focus on her task at hand while she bleeds. This wouldn’t have happened if she hadn’t been distracted––and Cassian’s secrecy the night before is taking up most of her focus. The bombs, she knows, are easily rigged, but in enemy territory, she always had to be mindful to be on her toes.

If Saw knew that she had been distracted by a boy, he would have her head for it. _“You can’t get distracted, my child. It will only get you killed.”_ It’s a depressing reminder, but she knows that Saw’s ghost is right. She needs to focus, or else––

_(but maybe it’s her time to go.)_

She growls in frustration––not because of the bombs, but because of Cassian. She can only wonder what he’s hiding, especially since he isn’t the type to keep things from her. Had Draven given him an extra assignment? Probably. Maybe he had to assassinate someone here at the ball and hadn’t wanted to burden her with that. Maybe he had to stay behind and continue with a solo undercover mission. Maybe he had been ordered to cut and run––

_Shavit._

She has to focus on the mission. Cassian had promised they would talk after they finished the mission, so she pushes all thoughts of him out of her mind as she checkes over her handiwork once more. Finally, when she deems all of her work to be at her satisfaction, she stands, dusting off her dress and presses her fingers to her comm. “Just about finished down here. Ready when you are.”

There’s silence on his end, and she uses the time to inspect a rip at the hem of her dress that she doesn’t know how she’ll explain when she returns to the party. For such a thick-woven fabric, it’s a wonder that anything had happened to it after all.

His voice crackles in after a few minutes. _“Hey, hey! Why don’t we get some music going, hmm? I want to dance!”_

That’s her cue to get into position, then blow this vault door skyhigh once she hears the music start. The Alliance supposedly has operatives placed within orchestra who have instructions to play loud enough to cover the sounds of a small explosion in the basement of the building. The bombs they’d given her were quiet enough where she thinks they might have a chance to pull this one off.

And, despite knowing that Cassian is only playing a part, she can’t help but snort at how ridiculous it is. What she wouldn’t give to see him pretend to be drunk––and a messy one, at the sound of it. “Don’t have too much fun without me, Captain.”

She slips the detonator out of her sleeve into her palm, taking a few steps back so she’s out of range. Once she hears the band strike up a loud, fast-paced dance (one she recognizes practicing with Cassian a couple days ago, she recalls fondly), she presses the button, covers her ears, and ducks behind a nearby wall, waiting for the explosion.

Nothing happens.

She frowns, dropping her hands from her head and pushing the button again, this time more forcefully. Again, nothing. She groans in frustration, resisting the urge to throw her hands up in the air and forget about the vault. Her hand curls around the detonator, grip so tight the metal nearly creaks in her hand. Maybe, just _maybe,_ there was something wrong in the way she had set up the bombs.

_(she doubts it. this––destroying things and setting up explosives––is what she’s good at._

_relationships, on the other hand––)_

She stalks from her position on the other side of the room, heading toward the vault. Of course this is her fault. It always is. She’s never been good at intelligence work, not like Cassian is. He’s the natural, he’s the golden agent––

The bombs explode.

Her only thought as the force of the explosion sends her flying backward is that she hopes they can’t hear her upstairs. She’ll never heard the end of it from Draven if she messes up yet another op.

Then her head knocks against the pavement, and she sinks into unconsciousness.

 

Jyn wakes with a start, hand flying to her chest as she coughs the smoke out of her lungs. She pushes herself up into a sitting position (too fast, her mind supplies––she has to close her eyes against the dizziness), and examines the destruction.

The doors to the vault are busted open, and she can just barely see the computers and machinery inside through the thick, black smoke. Jyn notes, with some satisfaction, that she had done her job properly despite the trouble the bombs had given her.

Her appearance, however, is a different matter. As she pushes herself to her feet, it becomes increasingly clear that she won’t be able to go back up to the party looking like this. Her dress, once a vibrant green, is now stained and dirty. There’s a tear in the skirt that goes up nearly to her ass, and it highlights the fact that she had deliberately chosen not to wear the pantyhose included in her uniform. The side that she’d landed on is in tatters, with holes in the material that line her side. Not to mention the large amount of bruises and small scrapes lining her skin, and the pounding in her head.

Jyn groans. She could care less about the dress, but the fact that she’s managed to kriff up yet another mission has her wondering just how long Cassian is going to put up with her.

She stumbles to the control room, coughing at the smoke surrounding the entrance and trying to reclaim her bearings. She nearly falls on her way to the mainframe, tripping on her heels, and collapses into a chair. As she hacks into the computer, she raises her fingers to her ear to comm Cassian. “Hey, Cass? There’s a,” she coughs, trying to rid her lungs of the smoke that had collected there, “small issue in the plan.”

His response comes almost immediately; he must have ducked somewhere more private to talk to her. _“What’s the matter? What happened?”_

“I kriffed up. I’ll be able to get the information, but we’re going to have to scratch the rest of it.”

_“I don’t care about the damn plan! Are you all right, Jyn?”_

“I’m fine,” she assures him, pulling her flashdrive out of her bra and plugging it into the computer to download the hard drive. “Got caught up in the explosion. I don’t know how I’m going to return to the party looking like this.”

There’s a pause. She waits anxiously, watching as her download completes. Then, he says, _“I’m coming down there.”_

“What? No!” Does he really think she’s so incompetent that he has to monitor her every move? She doesn’t need a babysitter. “I’ve got this taken care of. You do what you need to do, and I’ll find my own way out of here.”

He doesn’t respond, and Jyn knows that means that he’s already on his way. She tangles her hand in her hair in frustration and yanks the data drive out when it’s finished. At least she’d managed to do this much on her own.

As soon as she marches out of the room, Cassian nearly slides down the hallway in his panic to reach her. “Jyn!” he calls once he sees her, racing to her side. Immediately, his hands are all over her body, as if he needs to touch her in order to make sure that she’s okay. His eyes flash over her appearance, taking in her injuries and her disheveled appearance. When his fingers run over a particularly bad cut, she flinches away from him. “What happened?”

“Got too close to the bombs,” she mutters, shoving the flashdrive in his hands and stepping back. “I’m fine. Here’s the information.”

“I don’t care about the data,” he snaps, but he shoves it into the pocket of his tuxedo pants anyway. He does care, she knows, but won’t say that outright. Not to her, not like this. “I care about _you_.”

“Like I said, I’m––”

“Don’t, Jyn. You’re all beat up. Don’t lie to me.”

“The mission has to come first, doesn’t it, Captain?” she retorted, throwing the words he’s always telling her back in his face. “Go do what you need to do. My portion of it is over.” Force only knows what's still left for him to complete.

“No.”

“What?”

“No, we’re leaving,” he repeats, grabbing her arm gently. “Come on. We’ve got what we came for, let’s get out of here.”

“But you––” she could hardly believe the words coming out of his mouth, so shocked that he was throwing away the mission for _her._ It was so unlike him that she lets him pull her forward, her body frozen in shock.

“Let’s go, Jyn.”

She follows, unable to do anything else. She’ll always follow when he asks, anywhere, anytime.

 

He explains himself when she’s sitting on the edge of their bed (her bed, she thinks. a fact that’s become increasingly clear over the course of the last couple nights), patching up some of her more angry looking scrapes. She rubs a towel over her wet hair to distract herself, thankful that she’s no longer in her dress and instead feeling much more like herself in a too big pair of fatigues.

“There was another part to the mission that I didn’t want to tell you,” he murmurs, smoothing the patch over her bare leg from where he’s kneeled in between them. She knows this, but lets him continue speaking. “Draven wanted me to seduce one of the wives to see if I could get more information out of her.”

She’s struck speechless, and he takes her silence for judgement. He ducks his head, looking at the ground, hands falling from her skin. “I didn’t want to do it, but I had no choice but to accept––”

“Cassian, it’s okay,” he looks up at her with doubt in his eyes, and she reaches down to cup his face in her hands. “Really, I get it. It’s okay. I’m not upset.”

“You should be,” he replies softly. “I didn’t tell you about it, earlier. I didn’t know what to say, but I should have tried something, but instead I decided to keep it to myself like––like an absolute nerfherder.” She calls him that so much she isn’t surprised to hear him say it, but it does bring a smile to her face.

“I get it,” she murmurs, running her thumbs over his cheekbones to soothe him. “I was upset, but it doesn’t matter now. I understand.” And she does. She really, truly does. The lack of trust had made her angry, but she had been more nervous about his well-being. Knowing now that he’s all right cancels out all of her negative emotions from earlier that week.

“I swear I wasn’t going to do it,” he says quickly, eyes wide as if she needs to be the one who’s getting reassured (she doesn’t.) “I was going to find another way to get the information. I wouldn’t do that to you, Jyn. I swear.”

“I know,” she murmurs, pulling him close so he rests his head on her chest. Her arms come up around his back and she presses a kiss to the crown of his hair. “I know, Cassian.”

He sighs, ragged and shuttered, clearly at war with himself. She hates what the Rebellion does to him with no regard for his personal health. If they told him to jump, he would only ever ask how high––but she can see these small acts of rebellion because of her influence on him, which is yet another reason for the head of intelligence to loathe her. “I told Draven I didn’t want these missions anymore. He said this would be the last one.”

“Good.” She doesn’t mind when he has to do this type of spy work, not really (though she will admit the jealousy she feels isn’t pleasant), but if this is what he wants, then she trusts him wholeheartedly. “That’s good. I’m happy for you.”

“I’m sorry, Jyn. I should have told you. We could have figured out a solution together.

“It’s okay. Really, it is,” She always has, and she likely always will. When they get back to Hoth, she’s going to have a few words with Draven. He shouldn’t be subjecting one of his best agents to turmoil like this. “And I’m sorry too. I should have trusted that you were doing what you thought was best.” Instead, she had assumed he didn’t want her to know because he didn’t trust her with his portion of the mission.

_(and if she “accidentally” punches draven in the face, well, a night in the brig would be worth protecting cassian, even if he hardly needs it.)_

He sighs, closing his eyes. “I’m going to tell Draven I couldn’t get to the target in time. The only person I want to be with is you, Jyn. It always has been.”

“Really?” she asks, quirking her lips up into a smile. “Why don’t you prove it then, hotshot?”

He tugs her to her feet, all traces of earlier hesitation gone as a smirk pulls at his lips, then spins her around so she’s the one with her back to the door.

Their lips meet in a clash of passion, all teeth and tongue. He shoves her up against the wall, and she lets him, reaching up to rake her fingers through his hair and pull him down to meet  her, forcing him at an awkward angle. He growls against her lips, then reaches down to grab her thighs and pull her up so he’s half carrying her, half pressing her against the wall.

In response, she wraps her legs around his hips and her arms around his neck, grinding her hips into him mercilessly. “Fuck, Jyn,” he pants, breaking the kiss to press his forehead against hers. She’s breathing just as heavily as he is, and he swears in Festian as he tries to regain control of himself. She doesn’t give him time to do that, kissing her way down his jaw.

She huffs out a laugh, then gasps when their positions change and his head moves. His lips bite down on her neck, different from the gentle kisses she had been pressing against his jawline. Her eyes flutter shut, and she bangs the back of her head against the wall as his mouth sucks and nips and soothes with small little kisses all up and down her skin. Her head tilts to the side in order to give him a better angle, and has to bit her tongue to avoid making too many noises. Too many years of quick fucks in back alleys had molded her into someone who didn’t–-who couldn’t–-be loud during sex.

But Cassian is slowly breaking her out of that habit, and she lets him.

“We’re the only ones on this ship,” he murmurs against the skin of her neck, voicing her thoughts as if he knew exactly what she was thinking. “Let me hear you. I want to hear you.”

At that, one of his hands drift ever so slightly to the side, rubbing her through her pants. Her center throbs, warm heat thrumming through her body, and she can’t help the groan that slips out of her lips. She tries to squirm out of his grip so she could push him backward, ordering, “Bed. _Now._ ”

He hums, shaking his head in disagreement. She’s about to ask why the hell not when he says, “I was thinking I’d eat you out against this wall first.”

Her throat dries up and she freezes, blinking. “You want to––”

“Fuck you with my mouth, yes.”

“Fuck, Cass, you have to give me a _warning_ before you say something like that!”

He laughs against her neck, tucking his face into the crook of her shoulder. She can feel his warm breath against her skin, which only sends sparks of pleasure down her spine. “If that’s all right with you, of course.”

In response, she hooks her fingers in the waistband of her pants and underwear, and pulls them down to her knees. Cassian takes a step back, slightly shocked at her boldness (despite him being the one to initiate this), and she raises her eyebrows and crosses her arms over her chest, completely confident in her partial lack of dress despite her earlier words. “Well? You going––”

He’s on her in a second, nearly falling to his knees in a rush to get to her, hands on her thighs to spread her open in front of him. She laughs at his eagerness, but it turns into a stifled moan when he licks her with the flat of her tongue, straight to the point. At that, she can practically imagine his smirk, even though her head is tipped back against the wall and her eyes are closed. Her knees shake, especially as his scruff brushes against the sensitive skin of her thighs.

“Don’t act so––ah, ah right there, fuck, Cass––so damn _smug!_ ” she gasps out, threading her fingers through his thick hair as he sucks hard on her clit. He’s always so cocky when he gets her like this, but with that mouth of his, he has every right to be.

He kisses down her leg until he reaches her knees where her pants are still bunched, and he tugged them down to her ankles. She lifts her legs to give him better access, and he tosses the pants and underwear to the side. Unlike most times, he doesn’t have the patience to fold up her clothes, and instead he works his way back up from her ankle to her center.

She hooks her leg over his shoulder without any extra prompting, and he chuckles, resting his forehead against her thigh. “So eager,” he murmurs, slipping a finger inside of her and rocking it gently. That takes her breath away. She braces her hand against the wall, nails digging into the metal as she scrabbles for purchase. “So wet. And this is all for me.”

“Who the hell–– _kriff, Cassian_ ––who else would it be for?” He’s the only one for her; if he didn’t know that by now, she would have to tell him more, to make him as confident in her adoration for him as she is.

“Not questioning,” he reassures softly, pressing a kiss to her mound that has her sighing, eyes rolling back into her head. “Just––” he slides another finger in, curling them in a way that nearly has her sobbing out a moan, pumping them in and out in a steady rhythm. “I’m happy, Jyn. I really am.”

When she comes, it’s his tongue that causes it it, flicking against her clit then lavishing it with attention. His fingers work magic in her center. She cries out, fingers curling and tugging in his hair with almost a painful amount of strength. White, hot pleasure courses through her veins, and it throbs through her body so hard she sees stars. Tears prick her eyes as she returns to herself, and her breath hitches in her chest as she pulls Cassian up for a gentle kiss.

She tastes herself on his lips, but she doesn’t mind, curling her arms around his neck. When he pulls away, he wipes at the tear stains on her cheeks with his thumbs, worry evident in his eyes. His voice is panicked when he speaks. “Jyn? Why are you crying? Did I hurt you?”

“No, you nerfherder,” she says quietly, laughing slightly as she rests her forehead against his, closing her eyes. “I’m just happy. I’m so, so kriffing happy.”

He smiles at that, then grabs her hand, tugging her to the bed. She slides her hands up his shirt, then pushes it up over his head, raking her nails gently down his chest. Once the back of her knees hit the bed, she sits down on it, pulling off her shirt and breast band as Cassian takes off his pants and underwear.

For a moment, they pause and look at each other, eyes taking in each other’s bare forms before Jyn’s crooking a finger in his direction and he climbs on top of her.

Their kiss is tender, gentle, and she reaches up a hand to cradle his face against her own. Slipping her free hand down between their bodies, she grasps his length and it’s her turn to smirk as he lets out a shaky moan, dropping his forehead down to her shoulder as she strokes him. “Jyn,” he gasps, “I need to be inside you. Can I go inside of you?”

For the second time that night, she hooks her leg over his hip and guides him inside of her. She sucks in a breath at the stretch, arching her back as soon as Cassian starts to move, slowly at first, then picks up speed.

She clutches his body to hers, his weight weighing her down almost to the point of uncomfortableness, but she needs this closeness right now after days of separation. Her nails tear down his back but he doesn’t seem to mind, kissing her neck with a bruising force.

As his hips piston inside of her, harder and faster with each second, she raises hers to meet him, throwing back her head. Sweat beads on her forehead and she pants, desperate to feel more of him despite being as close as she can get. He palms her breasts, running his fingers over her nipples, lavishing them with attention.

“ _Mierda,_ Jyn,” he mumbles against her skin, his words mixing in with her cries of pleasure. _“Te sientes tan malditamente bien.”_

He hits a certain spot inside of her that makes her cry out. At that, he reaches between them and rubs her clit in fast movements that has her moaning his name with unabashed passion. “Fuck, Cass, I’m going to––”

“Come on, Jyn,” he mutters, kissing her neck. “Come for me. I want to feel you come around me.”

His voice, as always, is so kriffing sexy that it pushes her over the edge. She comes with a shout, arching her back off of the bed and pulling Cassian down on top of her. It only takes a few more thrusts for him to follow, spilling in her with a groan and muffling his sounds by biting down hard on her shoulder. She knows that she’ll have a bruise there tomorrow.

For a few seconds, all they can do is breathe, looking down at each other with a certain glint in their eyes. Cassian rolls off her, but she doesn’t let him go far, curling into his side as soon as she’s no longer touching his skin.

He pulls up the covers around them as she settles, then runs his fingers through her hair, propping himself up on a forearm so he can better see her face. She hums in contentment, completely sated.

“Jyn,” he murmurs, staring down at her with fondness in his eyes. He reaches forward, pushing aside a piece of hair stuck to her sweaty forehead, combing it back into something resembling a hairstyle.

“Hmm?”

“I really am sorry,” he whispers, voice quiet and vulnerable. She hates that he feels this way, especially after she’s already forgiven him. But she knows that guilt runs deep inside of him, even for things she isn’t privy to, so she stay quiet and lets him speak. “I should have told you.”

“I forgive you,” she says, then teases, “but only because you gave me two orgasms.”

He groans, flopping onto his back. She follows, propping her chin up on his shoulder as he rolls his eyes in exasperation. Leave it to her to turn a serious situation into a joke. Still, her comment breaks the tension between them. _“Jyn.”_

“What?” she asks innocently, fluttering her eyelashes. In an attempt to match his earlier tone, she adds, “I’ve already forgiven you, Cass. It’s fine, it really is. You know I wouldn’t be saying that if it wasn’t.”

And it’s true. She’s not upset with him, not anymore. She doesn’t know if she really ever had been, or if it had just been worry.

He grunts, pulling her closer by wrapping an arm around her back. “Good. You’re the only woman for me, Jyn Erso.”

“I _suppose_ you’re the only one for me too.”

“Jyn.”

“I mean,” she taps her chin with a finger, barely repressing a grin. “Han Solo _is_ pretty charming––”

Cassian growls, flipping them so she’s on her back once again. “Han Solo,” he grits out, “can’t fuck you like I do. He wouldn’t even come close.”

She laughs, reaching to cup his cheek as he begins to lavish her neck with kisses once again. “I’m kidding, Cassian. Of course you’re the only one for me. You always have been.”

_(and as far as she could tell, she thinks that he always will be.)_

“And,” he adds, nuzzling his nose into the junction between her neck and her shoulder, “he can’t love you like I do either.”

“He couldn’t even come close,” she agrees, acknowledging his feelings. She pulls him down on top of her, running her hands up and down his back. “I love you too, Cass.”

And while things aren’t back to the way they used to be before this mission, she thinks that they’re both better off despite it.

**Author's Note:**

> as always thanks for reading!!


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